Skall frowns down at the broken amulet, the observes the brands on Rolf and the girl. "They are cursed." He points from the amulet then to the brands on their flesh. "I'm wondering if their are more of these thralls in our enemy's service...and if these two are truly free of the taint."
Skallangbiorn thinks on his own experiences with curses...how thw witches from Irrisen favored their use...
Ana embraces Thorvald back, looks at him and shakes her head apologetically in response to his earlier question, meaning I don't have the slightest idea what has been going on here. I don't understand any of this magic.
Seeing that Skall seems to understand more, she asks
"What kind of curse? Do you know how it works?"
In response to Zethyris:
"First we should figure out why we were sent to rescue this man." (pointing at Montulo) "But maybe not here, in the middle of the snakes' nest. Lets find a more secluded place and then lets talk."
Spells Prepared (CL 4):
Level 2 (3/day)
---
Level 1 (4/day)
---
Level 0 (at will)
Detect Magic
Detect Poison
Purify Food and Drink (DC 13)
Stabilize
Special Qualities
Aura
Cleric Channel Positive Energy 2d6 (0/6 per day) (dc 16)
Spontaneous Casting
Touch of Glory (6/day)
You can cause your hand to shimmer with divine radiance, allowing you to touch a creature as a standard action and give it a bonus equal to your cleric level on a single Charisma-based skill check or Charisma ability check. This ability lasts for 1 hour or until the creature touched elects to apply the bonus to a roll. You can use this ability to grant the bonus a number of times per day equal to 3 + your Wisdom modifier.
Domains
Ferocity
3-Rage
6-Bull's Strength, Mass
Glory
1-Shield of Faith
2-Bless Weapon
2-Zone of Truth
Special Attacks
Ferocious Strike (+2) (3/6 per day)
Whenever you make a melee attack, you can designate that attack as a ferocious strike. If the attack hits, it deals additional damage equal to 1/2 your cleric level (minimum +1). You can use this ability a number of times per day equal to 3 + your Wisdom modifier.
"From what I see the brands themselves appear to be physical representations of a curse. It's as if a device may have been used on them and transferred the curse through the branding...that amulet there being the brand. I will need to contemplate it more to understand its workings..."
"Your deeds tell me what I need to know. Titles and lineage means nothing to Lord in Iron" Skallangbiorn nods respect to Rutilux. "There will be farmers with pitchforks who fight for their families standing alongside Gorum in the last days. While men of title and high sounding words fall like chafe in the wind."
While he does not worship the lord in Iron, Rutilux nods respectfully in return, "Nobility is indeed more than a title."
"Rutilux, can you summon your steed to you? I would prefer to make a rapid exit from here, however I know you would be loathe to leave Sunfire behind."
"Once we get to the entrance, I should be able to whistle for him to come." Rutilux has no intention of leaving his steed behind.
"We must do what we can to free these two, obviously. Such soulchaining is not a fate I'd wish on my worst enemy." He goes to find or call for his steed.
"Would the removal of the arm remove the curse?"
He considers the scout's suggestion as he steps towards Montulo. Checking his arm, he works on bandaging it to prevent infection from the undead attacks. "As I said before, you fight well." He withdraws his last vial of Cure Light Wounds and holds it before the old man. "Do you require this?"
Skall looks over his shoulder, reaching a conclusion to Julian's question. "If this...curse is like a poison? Then no, that would not work. But if it is a way for the curse to stay grounded to them? Then yes, we may have to remove the arm if we are unable to cleanse them." He searches through his satchel and shakes his head. "I am not equipped to do such a thing effectively with what I now possess...but I can do it."
Skall's mind is centered on the fight, knowing what he is going to be carrying with him into the next battle. "At the least, bind this man as you have the girl. I'll not have them turning on us as we make our escape. Nor would I have them endanger the Kodiakborne should we bring them before him."
"OK, short term. We have retrieved Montulo. I don't believe we have any further need to be here, so let us return to Soval's camp. The immediate issues are that we have no mounts, and Sunfire is not at hand. I am not enthused about attempting a frontal assault on this compound to retrieve mounts. Shall we make some space between ourselves and this compound, and evaluate whether to proceed afoot? And see if Sunfire can catch up to us without direct assistance?"
"Also, a thought occurs. Rutilux, would it be possible for Herald to bring a message to Savol's camp and have someone meet us underway with mounts?"
Broken out of his reverie by Skallagbiorn, Montulo thanks him for the aid but refuses the potion. "Nah, you keep it. It's not as bad as it looks and someone may need it more between where we are and where we decide to go. I've heard several of you mention a Kodiak or a Sabol, Er Savol? Is he the one that killed that two headed Linnorm?"
Shortly after Rutilux whistles you can hear the whickering of horses in the distance, probably Sunfire and the rest of the horses. They're maybe a half hours walk away from the sound of it considering the lag of the land and the snow piled in places hiding dangerous drifts.
Once you reach the horses, they appear non the worse for wear although Sunfire's front legs have a slight reddish pink tinge to them, hinting that he had a skuffle with someone or something, but looks otherwise fine. Although they do seem eager to be gone from this place.
Jediah checks out the horses and attempts to help everyone back to camp.
Isham assists with the horses (what, horses again? arrgghhh...). He also ensures that the two prisoners are as comfortable as possible, suffering no ill effects from riding while bound.
While Jediah is looking for the right way, Ana starts a conversation with Montulo: "This might sound strange, after we have risked our lives to rescue you, but we know nothing about you, Montulo. Can you tell us a bit about yourself? What do you do for a living? Do you have any idea why you could be important for our cause?"
Skall will lend his skill to the journey.
Also, I've got a Resistance spell available if needed...
"Also, a thought occurs. Rutilux, would it be possible for Herald to bring a message to Savol's camp and have someone meet us underway with mounts?"
The cavalier nods, "Horses are not far off. Let me know if you still want me to pass on that note." If Isham still wishes it, then Rutilux says to the air "Herald." the fay feathered bird arrives, and Rutilux soon attaches whatever note Isham would like to write.
Rutilux pats his horse as he looks at the signs of battle, "You've been a busy fellow, haven't you? Still, looks like you held your own even better than your master."
Making sure Rolf and Rose are bound, and weaponless, he will put the latter on the back of his horse and ride. A dangerous prospect as she's nearly killed him once
Rutilux notices the look but can think of no comment that might not complicate matters further. I could tell her that Chivalry has its rules, and that I can offer Rose a gentler ride...but with Julian in the party, there's no way that phrase wouldn't get a snicker
"Don't look at me like that, Rutilix. I'm just worried about Sunfire having to carry the load of two people, when we do have spare horses. That's all."
"Of course," Rutilux knows its a lie, but is too polite to say so, particularly in front of others. "Thank you for your concern for Sunfire. Still, he's strong, and she'll be less likely to fall to the side this way. If he starts to tire too much, I'll switch her over as you suggest"
"Also, it's a horse."
"Alright. Julian is right. It's just a horse. Do as you wish, Rutilux."
And with that she turns her attention back to Montulo.
"Sunfire is just a horse, in the same way that a ship is a collection of dead trees. I've called out men for insulting my ship."
In a slightly lighter tone, "Yah, I well remember dear departed Barnacle Bill. It was in Samarkand, as we were unloading the Queen of the Desert. Bill was a hand on an Andaran scut in the opposite slip. He was casting off, and liked as how he wasn't like to see us again, except has arse hanging off the stern - implying the Queen couldn't make the same speed as his. He probably meant his remarks for our hands as were unloading, and had the bad luck to wag his tongue as our squad of marines were debarking. Him having no true blade, he and I crossed daggers. I left him with some good cuts, and a softened pate. I heard from another that night that he drowned his sorrows at a portside bar, and managed to catch a case of dead in the process."
"A bit less dramatic than imposter villians with phantasmal copies of themselves sneaking up and slitting throats," says Isham, rubbing the healing wound abutting his jugular, "but a simpler and cleaner resolution."
Ana really wants to say something like but I've heard that there are rules against bringing back-stabbing women on board of ships in reply to Isham's remark - but she bites her lip.
"We bloodied that scum, I would love to raid his keep, leave him dead in the snow while the place burned down around him."
"When people need order, even a vile and capricious leader can seize power. I'd gladly feed Margrave to the crows, but his people deserve a lord of quality and honor. It may take generations to return this region to a strong, productive, and well governed state. This Margrave has done more harm to the people of this region than if they had lived in total anarchy."
"The undead are not people any longer and if the Margrave always gets his due, shouldn't we finish this here and now? I don't want to lead him and Shade down on innocent people as they follow our trail."
We have taken quite the beating. I am all for ending him but perhaps establishing a guarded camp would be better if we wish to keep them away from our patron.
Rutilux appreciates that Isham understands about why Sunfire is important to him. Isham may not be no true horseman, but he is wise enough to be able to visualize through anothers' eyes.
The conversation turns to Margrave, and Rutilux listens to the chatter, "I dislike leaving this Margrave alive myself, I admit it but I do not know how strong we truly are at this point if we wish to go after him."
"To press this fight is foolishness. We don't serve Gorum or your liege lord dying because e entered battle with dull blades." Skall spits on the ground, the copper taste of blood still in his mouth. "But the half-orc speaks true. A secure camp may serve as a way station...the we return to the fight."
"Fair enough. We can go to find a place to make camp. Margrave may come to us and his undead minions have no need of sleep. If they come they will not find my axe dull."
Sense motive
". . . Nor my mind . . . It feels good to get struck in the face every once in a while, it keeps ones guard up lest you be caught unawares."
Thorvald walks off towards his two horses and calls over his shoulder
"Come, Raven, I've got a spare heavy horse. Shaggy Horse isn't trained for war yet, but he is sure footed and loyal. He can bear your weight easily."
"Min takknemlighet, vinter bror." Skallangbiorn says.
The cleric surveys the horse, checking temperament and getting acquainted. It'd been nearly a year since last he'd sat the saddle. His last patrol before departing Trollheim with the Blackravens had been on foot, the enemy being so close to the fortress city.
He feels more comfortable on foot, not having learned the art of mounted combat, but he isn't going to slow the group down just so he could fight better. Besides, the faster they could get to a good location for camp, the faster he could hone his mind and spirit for the coming fight.
Skallangbiorn looks to Zethyris and Julian. "You two are scouts I would assume. In your reconnoiter of the area, were you able to find a defensible position for a camp? Perhaps within a day's ride?"
"You two are scouts I would assume. In your reconnoiter of the area, were you able to find a defensible position for a camp? Perhaps within a day's ride?"
Zethyris shrugs apologetically. "I was primarily looking for foes, and no locations really stood out to me." He glances "Julian? Do you remember anything?"
Survival
"I think I spotted a few places. . . Who is going to ride with the downed bandit? I am guessing that Zethyris might be the best person to speak with Montulo."
Thorvald is facing his warhorse securing his gear and rearranging gear.
Isham considers the ground covered so far, and the lay of the land ahead, looking for some feature that presents a defensible front.
"I think that knoll up there looks promising. Those evergreens have boughs that stand off the ground enough to allow a bivouac, but low enough to block lines of sight and break up any smoke from a campfire. It also looks as though there's a dropoff on one side, and fairly clear slopes otherwise. Should be good lines of fire."
Isham looks calmly at his companions, "Unless someone sees a more promising camp?"
Sounds good to me.
Skallangbiorn looks over the area suggested and nods appreciatively. He studies the Speaker for a moment. Between Rutilux and Isham, the cleric is not sure who is the leader of the group. He decides to continue to observe their interactions before drawing a conclusion. Perhaps a shared leadership? They work well together, but there is an undercurrent of emotion that could lead towards weakness.
Kneeing his borrowed horse, he angles towards the route Isham indicates. "Good. The sooner we make camp, the sooner we can begin interrogating our prisoners."
No one else manages to find a more defensible position than Isham so everyone makes camp there, sleeping fitfully between dreams of glowing eyed allies and undying enemies.
Thankfully, the morning comes quickly and without danger giving everyone the chance to rest and recouperate.
Before everyone settles in for the night, Montulo takes the time to answer several unanswered and some unasked questions from earlier. "I'm an old man now but when I was younger me and my friends, Eron, Marie and Tobahn, were adventurers like all of you. We traveled the countryside looking for trouble and sometimes, well more than I'd like to admit, getting in over our heads. But we always managed to find our way out. Eh, maybe I'm getting a little ahead of myself, I am Montulo Albert Davis Reinholt a man of Brevish descent, or more specifically Aldori. As I said I was an adventurer when I was younger and for a while have worked for the priesthood of Cayden Cailen but for the most part I just travel the world. As to what I can do about your cause and helping it out, to be frank I have no idea what your cause really is. I think I've heard you talking about serving one of these ulfen kings but I'm not sure how I can help with that."
"Aldori, that is the home of the most famous sword fighters in the world right? Speaking of which I have a spare sword on my horse. Could you use it?"
"I think it was because of your patron deity that we were led to you. What kind of work did you do for your church?"
"As to what I can do about your cause and helping it out, to be frank I have no idea what your cause really is. I think I've heard you talking about serving one of these ulfen kings but I'm not sure how I can help with that."
"Honestly, I don't think you are intended to help with that. As for why we rescued you... it's a complicated story."
Zethyris gives a summary of the tale, as the details can wait until a more comfortable time and place.
"A short while ago, I ended up dying from a nasty sea serpent's poison. Eron and I were good friends - he was almost like a father to me. I saw him in Elysium, where he told me that something big was happening in the North."
"More significantly, he told me that I still had tasks to do here, and that I could be sent back to finish them. To be precise, to finish what he said you started."
"Obviously, I accepted the offer. I was told to find you. Eron said that you were sent here by HIM, and I and my friends are to do what you could not."
Zethyris fixes his gaze on Montulo, his earnest face betraying the slightest bit of excitement. "Can you explain what this means? Do you know of the threat great enough that those outside this plane would take interest? What task were you sent to do, and how can we complete it?"
Isham watches Montulo carefully, gauging his reaction to the degree of attention he's receiving, and the expectations being levied on him. If Montulo begins to 'unravel', Isham will deflect the conversation long enough (and in directions) to give Montulo an opportunity to regroup.
Rutilux is glad for the rest, and checks on Rose and Rolf to see if either have woken, though both are tied up, or should be. A woman as skilled as Rose could likely slip her bonds if folks weren't wary.
Next morning she finally asks Skall: "You mentioned yesterday that you saw Savol with two Linnorm heads ... how long ago was that?"
Julian beds down as far away from New Guy as possible, afraid he'll start sleep-monologuing.
Spells Prepared (CL 4):
Level 2 (2+1/day)
Zone of Truth (Domain) / (DC 15)
Spiritual Weapon (100 ft + 10ft / lvl)
Bull’s Strength (+4 Str for 1 min)
Level 1 (3+1/day)
Shield of Faith (Domain)
Murderous Command (DC 15)
Shield of Faith (+2 AC)
Sanctuary
Level 0 (at will)
Spark
Detect Magic
Guidance (+1 Attack / Saving / Skill)
Stabilize
Domains
Ferocity
3-Rage
6-Bull's Strength, Mass
Glory
1-Shield of Faith
2-Bless Weapon
2-Zone of Truth
Special Qualities
Aura
Cleric Channel Positive Energy 2d6 (5/6 per day) (DC 16 Sacred Conduit)
Spontaneous Casting
Touch of Glory (6/day)
You can cause your hand to shimmer with divine radiance, allowing you to touch a creature as a standard action and give it a bonus equal to your cleric level on a single Charisma-based skill check or Charisma ability check. This ability lasts for 1 hour or until the creature touched elects to apply the bonus to a roll. You can use this ability to grant the bonus a number of times per day equal to 3 + your Wisdom modifier.
Special Attacks
Ferocious Strike (+2) (6/6 per day)
Whenever you make a melee attack, you can designate that attack as a ferocious strike. If the attack hits, it deals additional damage equal to 1/2 your cleric level (minimum +1). You can use this ability a number of times per day equal to 3 + your Wisdom modifier.
Skallangbiorn awakens with first light, eager to pray to Gorum for guidance. The things he'd heard the night before... Was it true that Zethrys had been called back from the realm of the dead? For what purpose, by what power? He wasn't sure. And the more the questions piled up the more distracted he would be from his purpose.
So he prays for clarity and purpose. This new group who found him, they are vastly different from his time in Trollheim. Certainly it would take some getting used to if he was to be effective. Besides, he needs to find out to which Savol - if there are more than one - he is to make his request.
As he finishes his ritual, Skallangbiorn hears soft footsteps approaching him from the side. "You mentioned yesterday that you saw Savol with two Linnorm heads ... how long ago was that?" Ana asks.
He rests back on his haunches and looks into the woman's eyes. "Three months, maybe more. I've been on the road for quite some time." He searches the woman's eyes to ascertain her motivations in the endeavor, but waits for her to continue instead of asking.
----------------------Assuming After our Conversation Here--------------
As an aside, he offers. "Inform the others, I am prepared to administer healing to any who still possess wounds."
He'll await until those still injured are gathered.
"Describe this 'Savol.' Physically. With detail."
"I am prepared to administer healing to any who still possess wounds."
"Thank you, Skallangbiorn," Zethyris says as the healing washes over him, removing the lingering aches and pains of the recent battle. "May your sword stay sharp and your heart stay true."
As Skallangbiorn completes his morning ritual and provides healing to those still in need, the rest of the troupe breaks camp - now a well-practiced ritual needing little active attention.
"Perhaps this would be a good opportunity for you to share your tale with us. When needs must, the devil must drive - but we have some greater degree of surety now, and a need for some distraction as we prepare for the day." Although presented as an almost courtly request, any military instinct in Skallangbiorn will recognize he has been called to stand and report.
"That's like what I said, but without an editor," Julian says.